


A Family Visit

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-04
Updated: 2008-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-15 03:09:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15403629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: The Fanged Four visit the Master to present the newest in the line.





	A Family Visit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cafedemonde](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=cafedemonde).



> Happy Independence day, all! (Or, for my British readers, happy "Good Riddance to Ungrateful Colonies Day")

They were traveling by coach – by daytime nonetheless – curtains drawn tightly and the interior stifling. Darla somehow managed to look cool and clean in the dust-filled cabin. Her eyes were on the wavering curtains as though she could see the scenery behind them. “When we get there, what is the first thing we do? William?”

William looked up from a very involved game he and Dru were inventing as they went that involved finger-walking on the pleated trim of her polanaise skirt. “What? Me? Is this some kind of test?”

Darla sighed heavily. “Angelus, you spoil the boy.”

“He’s not my boy to train.”

“Oh, Angelus! You really expect Drusilla to discipline him?”

Drusilla, eagerly grinning at this suggestion, smacked William hard on the face. He blinked and she giggled. “Bad dog!” she said, and barred her teeth, play-growling.

He smiled. “Naughty girl!” The words dripped dirty promises and he lifted Drusilla onto his lap.

Darla folded her fan and looked pointedly at Angelus.

He avoided her gaze, slumping a little in his seat. “It’s not going to matter what we do once we get there – the Master’s a sour old goat incapable of being satisfied.”

The fan smacked Angelus on the arm. “Everyone, pay attention. We have less than four hours before nightfall and less than five hours before we will be presented in the Master’s court. Am I the only one who cares how we stand in the family?”

The sulky, vacant, and not-turned-toward-her expressions answered that question most succinctly. “William!” She snapped, and the boy finally extracted his head from Drusilla’s neck to blink at her in something approaching attention. “I should think you would be most interested in this meeting, as it could determine your fate.”

“My wot?”

Darla glared at Angelus and mouthed the word “spoiled” once again. “The Master, as head of our clan, could claim you as his own, William. We would have to leave you here.”

“Wot!”

Drusilla squealed in delight as William tried to stand, hit his head on the top of the carriage, and tossed the both of them nearly off the seat.

At a more civil volume, Angelus said, “What? Darla, what are ye talking about?”

“Well I hardly feel I should have to explain this to you, Angelus. Did I not present you when you were newly-turned?”

“I… that was, uh…” Angelus scowled, finding William now looking at _him_ with affront. “That was a visit?”

Darla sighed. “Traditionally, you foolish man, a sire can claim any of his offspring’s get as his own. That is _why_ the newly-turned must be presented. I could have taken Drusilla from you and kept her as my maid if it fancied me. Which it doesn’t, never fear. I prefer my maids sane.”

“So I could take William?” A sudden gleam flicked across Angelus’ eyes and he didn’t even react this time when Darla smacked him with her fan.

Drusilla tightened her arms around William’s waist and stuck her tongue out at her daddy.

“Wait – this old git we’re visitin’ could just up and take me? Like, what? Like a slave? Sod that! I’m getting out of the car right now! Stop the horses!”

William flailed in panic while Drusilla hugged him, seemingly unaffected by his sudden moves. “All mine, silly William. The stars said so, and stars never lie!”

“You know, Darla, this is our family, yours and mine, The Master can’t just break in!”

It was an amusing quarter-hour or so of cacophony and absurdity – Angelus trying to look very serious and insist that they were a happy family while William panicked and Drusilla clung to him, cutting off his various escape attempts with remarkable aplomb.

Darla settled her shoulders against the seat-back. “Well. Finally I have everyone’s attention. So, when we get to the hotel, William, you will unpack the luggage while Drusilla and I get settled in the room and Angelus, you will…”

The men glowered, sinking low in their seats while Darla detailed every point of their arrival.

***

“Did she mean that, Angelus? About the claiming thing? What does that mean, exactly?”

“For the fortieth time, hush, boy!”

They stood in the antechamber of the Master’s underground court, waiting for Darla and Drusilla, who were engaged in some arcane, feminine activity in a basement washroom just up the stairs, the results of which would surely be lost on male eyes.

William kept fussing with his collar. He hated wearing one, but Darla had insisted.

Angelus smacked his hands. “You’ve nothing to worry about. The Master would sooner have a boil on his arse as a spoilt lay-about like you to mind.”

“Ta!” William scowled.

Darla and Drusilla wafted into the room, fresh-faced and smiling. Darla had a parasol at her side like a cane. (What a vampire would need a lace parasol for besides affectation, Angelus could not begin to fathom, but then, these were women.)

“Shall we?” she raised one gloved hand, awaiting Angelus’ arm, which was dutifully offered. “Remember, children. I speak first. If anyone else speaks, it will be Angelus, and only _if_ the Master addresses him.”

Angelus shot William a glare lest the boy make anything of this.

William wasn’t impressed. Warning or no, they were in a basement – the dilapidated elegance of some medieval castle basement under a hotel in freakin’ Germany where everything smelled, quite frankly, krauty. The recent marble mosaics and painted frescos of the hotel gave way in a jagged line to crumbling masonry at the top of the steps Dru and Darla had just descended. They were in a brick vault with iron grills set low in the walls, a part of the sewer system slanting down and opening into the older stone barrel-like rooms that the Master now called home.

It was dirty and dusty and he wasn’t expecting a lot from this ‘master’.

Two vampires in velvet livery announced them and they shuffled in, Darla just a half step ahead of Angelus, Dru and William behind. (William suspected they were the best-dressed in the room by rather a lot. At the very least, they were the least dusty.)

The Master sat in an old wooden throne, over-done and over-blown in the baroque style. He had a hideous visage, like a dried up bat, and over-long fingers with yellowed claws. “Darla, my dear, sweet one!” he stood and Darla, that stone-cold bitch, rushed into his arms like a little girl returning to daddy!

William gaped his amazement, but Drusilla just hummed, her head tilted back, none of this phasing her.

Angelus, for his part, was growling at the back of his throat, his eyes smoldering as he clearly wanted to rip old bat-face’s hands off his woman.

Then Darla and The Master exchanged a long, open-mouthed kiss. Angelus and William shared looks of open disgust.

At last they separated. The Master patted Darla’s taffeta sleeve with his long fingered hand. “So, my darling, show me this newest member of the family.”

William stepped smartly forward and gave a very shallow bow. (Then smirked because he could tell it irritated Angelus no end that he was being well-behaved in front of company.)

“This is William, sired by Drusilla, sired by Angelus, sired by me.” Darla smiled winningly, wafting her hand at William as though she were actually quite proud of him.

(Cold-hearted old bint could act.)

William’s smug smile faded as he caught the look in the Master’s eye. The old freak was practically _slavering_. He stepped close to William, too close, stepping in to his personal space as William tried hesitantly to back up, stopped only by a stern look from Darla.

“Well, well, this is an improvement,” The Master said. He leaned close and inhaled deeply. “Ah. He smells almost innocent!”

“Oi!”

“William, be still!”

The Master’s tongue was practically hanging from his mouth as he circled William, his long fingernails trailing over his jacket and then down, tracing his buttocks.

“Hey!” William jumped forward, clamping two hands over his own bum in protection.

“Virgin, isn’t he?”

“I am not!”

Angelus grabbed William’s arm hard and yanked him to his side just as Darla set her delicate hand over his mouth. “Drusilla has been keeping the boy to herself. He _is_ just-turned.”

“My precious Darla, he is delightful. I will of course have to have him.”

“Hmmf?” William asked anxiously from behind Darla’s hand. Angelus’ fingers dug even harder into the flesh of his bicep.

Darla noticed pleading expressions coming from both Angelus and Drusilla. “Of course,” she said, lilting and seemingly happy, “but he is so terribly useful looking after Drusilla, we wouldn’t want to be without him too long.”

“Bah. Such are the rewards of turning the insane!”

Angelus was holding Spike tightly against him now, and the younger vampire wriggled, trying to get free. “We’re all tired from the journey,” Angelus said. “If you don’t mind, Heinrich, I’d like to take my family up to the hotel and settle in for the day.”

The Master tilted his head back, clucking his tongue against the back of his teeth. “If I don’t mind? This man of yours, Darla! He does so often think himself in charge, doesn’t he?”

“Oh, I assure you, he doesn’t,” Darla leaned her cheek on The Master’s shoulder and winked at Angelus.

“Look, I’m tired. My boy is tired. My baby girl is tired. We came directly, we’ve done the required. If you want to stay here and have this conversation while I’m weary and irritable, by all means, let’s continue.”

The Master and Angelus locked gazes a long moment. At last the Master waved a hand, seemingly bored. “You have my permission to retire. But be back at dusk with that delicious boy.”

***

“He called me ‘delicious’!”

“William, if ye can’t stop whinging until we actually get into the room, I’ll stuff my fist in your mouth.”

“But Angelus, ‘delicious’! What the sodding hell could that mean? And did you see his teeth? His tongue? It was grey. The freaky old bat has a grey tongue! And what was he doing waggling it at me like I’m a sodding lolly?”

Angelus groaned, hitting his head against the back of the elevator.

Drusilla, fortunately, was keeping the lift operator quite distracted by resting her chin on his shoulder and telling him all about his future.

They did seem to have a run of unlucky lift-operators.

***

Darla sighed, settling on a small wooden chair set for her at the Master’s right hand. “Children are an ordeal,” she said. “He’ll grow out of it.”

“I doubt it. Your Angelus carries his stubbornness all the way into his bones. No, I see him never learning that lesson, certainly not as he grows more powerful. What a pity, my dear, that your own children haven’t brought you the joy that you brought me.”

He picked up her gloved hand and kissed it, grinning with his yellowed, needle-like teeth.

A face only a daughter could love. She leaned forward to kiss his peaked nose. “I’ve had my joy, master. That I can assure you. In equal parts to the frustration.”

The master laughed. “Then it must have been great joy indeed!” He tilted his head back, his strange face thoughtful. “I dare say he means to keep that delectable young boy from me.”

“The easiest way to make Angelus want something is to try and take it from him. He had no time for the boy yesterday.”

***

They’d secured two rooms – one for the children, one for the elders, and Spike was surprised when, as he started to follow Drusilla into ‘their’ room, he was snatched back by Angelus and dragged into the larger suite across the hall.

Angelus closed the door and then slammed him against it. “The Master is only interested in you, boy, because you’re a virgin.”

“I’m not! Drusilla…”

“A virgin to MEN.”

The look of pure confusion gave way far too slowly to understanding. “Now, wait a minute…”

Angelus pressed his body against the boy’s. “And if anyone is going to be the first to breach that tight little arse, it’s going to be me!”

The half-mad possessive growl did something to William’s insides, something melting and warm. He cleared his throat. “Are you, uh, talking about…” the pause grew as he waited for Angelus to finish the sentence, which he didn’t. William licked his lower lip. “Buggery?”

“You want to lay yourself down with that bat-faced bastard?”

“There isn’t a strong enough ‘no’ in the English language.”

Angelus gathered up a fistful of William’s shirt-front and nearly lifted him off the ground. “Then get your clothes off, boy, and let’s get rid of that tempting virginity!”

With this he tossed William toward the bed. William stumbled and stood, jerking his vest back down into place. “Wait a tick. Angelus, uh, you’re a nice bloke and all, an’ I like you, I do…”

Angelus growled, stalking across the room like a tiger approaching meat. Tasty meat that was trying to get away.

“Uh… All right, then,” William said, and hastily shrugged out of his jacket. His fingers flew to his vest, fumbling the buttons in his haste, but he knew if the sodding thing got damaged in a grandsire-lust-fest it was going to be HIM that got blamed for it.

He managed to get three of four buttons loose when the vest was torn from him, the fourth flying off to ping against the mirror over the vanity.

“He thinks he can take anything of MINE?” Angelus snarled. William skittered away from him – running briefly over the soft surface of the four-poster just to get out of reach long enough to undo his own cravat. (Like hell he was losing this shirt – it was his last nice one and Darla had threatened not to replace it.)

“Hey, a little involvement here, ‘Gelus? I’m the only one stripping off and last I checked…”

Angelus managed to remove his jacket, vest, shirt and cravat all in two efficient motions, dropping them in a pile of fine fabrics and glaring at the boy who was very irritatingly out of reach and still clothed, either of which were hanging crimes in his book. “Get over here, boy.” Angelus’ chest rose and fell with deep breaths, his hair disarrayed by the speed with which he’d stripped, it hung over his face lending even more of a feral look to him than usual.

Fear and anticipation mixed equally in William’s stomach, making him feel like he’d drunk a quart of phosphate. “Should we, uh…”

“So help me, lad, if you’re not naked and on this bed by the count of five, I’ll strop every inch of flesh off your backside.” Angelus unbuttoned his flies with impatient little jerks of his wrist and pulled his cock out, not bothering to remove his trousers.

“That’s a fine way to sweet-talk a bloke you want to… uh… you know.” William’s fingers numbly flew through undoing his cuffs and his shirt, at last, tumbled to the ground. He looked anxiously at Angelus, standing there with his cock in hand like a weapon, eyes steady on him while he tried not to look down, but he had to, to get his flies.

It was almost too predictable. The moment his eyes left Angelus, the older vampire leaped over the bed, knocking him to the ground. William’s hands were batted out of the way and his trousers wrenched open with a loud rip of fabric and the ping-pong noises of more buttons going flying.

“Get off!” William howled, struggling now with the larger, stronger vampire. They rolled across the floor, banging into the bed-post, then the vanity and settee, leaving torn bits of clothing in their wake.

With a powerful wrenching of arms, Angelus got William half-up on the settee, his thick arm around his neck and his knee pushing soft white thighs apart. “Here, now, lad, yer shaking.”

“It’s gonna hurt, isn’t it?”

Angelus bit his lower lip to stop himself from saying “God I hope so.”

The boy was shivering and smelled deliciously of fear and fresh tears. Angelus rubbed against him, enjoying the texture of cool skin against his loins driven hot by expectation. “There there, lad. You’ve seen me take Drusilla hard. Does she look like she’s hurting?”

“Dru’s mad as a hatter.”

“Hush. It’s great. Glorious. After this ye’ll be beggin’ for it.” Angelus bit his lip again, hard enough to taste blood, at that thought. His fingertips wriggled between clenched buttocks, brushed over that tiny, quivering pucker.

“Yeah? Then why don’t we switch places?”

William was surprised to get a strangled groan in response. “Later, William. Later. Can’t let that bastard have ye first. Here – suck on my fingers.”

William raised a brow, startled out of his fear. “Wot?”

Angelus groaned. “We need spit, William, to ease the way. Here, lad, get ‘em good and wet.” He pressed his fingers to the boy’s full lips.

With a dubious frown, William took one long digit into his mouth and sucked on it.

Angelus had to hastily grasp the base of his cock. “FUCK! What a sight you are, lad! Nicely sucking sire’s fingers. Oh, we should have done this right off. First night. What time I’ve wasted!”

A wicked smile stretched William’s lips as he saw, for the first time, he had power over Angelus. He fluttered his eyelashes and groaned extravagantly, exaggerating his enjoyment of the salty, musky taste of Angelus’ flesh.

Did the boy know what he was doing? Angelus gaped in amazement, feeling that strong, dexterous tongue scrubbing over his fingers.

This wasn’t going to last long. He pulled his fingers out of the boy’s mouth with a pop. (He gasped and chased after them, plump lips and tongue yearning. It almost undid his sire once again.) Angelus set to work, slipping one digit inside the boy, who instantly tensed again.

“It only hurts if you tense. Yer hurting yourself!”

William rolled his eyes, thought up a few choice epithets to throw at the old man when he wasn’t in such a compromised position, and wondered how it could possibly NOT hurt to be buggered when one little finger had jolts of pain traveling up his spine?

Then Angelus’ other hand closed around William’s half-hard cock, coaxing it to fullness, and he gasped again, to be pleasured by the great Angelus! William gripped the edge of the settee and rocked back, against that muscular body that curved neatly against his, and forward into a tight fist.

“Yeah, that’s it, lad. Fuck yourself on me.” A second finger easily joined the first, and now together they jabbed in time with his hand-thrusts while William moaned, lost in pleasure.

He was gorgeous, Angelus realized, wanton, unspoiled. His fingers worked harder, twisting and turning, wriggling him open and searching for that one spot…

William gasped and arched as though stung. He pressed back hard. Ah, that was the spot.

Angelus licked the nape of his neck, feeling the delicious fine hairs slick and spring under him. His own cock was weeping, rubbing now and again – oh too infrequently and lightly- against William’s hip. He began to feel if he wasn’t inside the boy right then he would burst into flame. But he held off, counting to himself. One… two… enjoying the frustration as much as the completion, since he knew it was coming.

On ten he pushed past his fingers, sinking at last into tight flesh.

William froze and stiffened under him again, muscles clenching so hard, biting into Angelus. He groaned and pressed his thumbs into the boy’s lower back. “Easy, lad. Ye’ll kill me. Easy.”

William was speaking – something loud and high about how maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Angelus just pressed forward slowly, patiently, until he felt his balls nice and snug against the curve of flesh beneath him. Then he sighed and let his hands roam over that smooth back, soothing. “Relax into it boy. Press back and the pain will go. I’m gonna fuck you into the floor either way.”

Angelus decided, indulgently, and because he didn’t want to have to fight too hard to get back here in the future, to count to ten and give the boy that time to adjust.

He made it to six.

The friction was intense, his cock burning and then sliding in sweet, cool, smooth flesh. There was a little blood, but that was good, more lubricant. Slowly it built up and aided the slide. Silk and smooth and oh, so tight. Darla in her best satin gloves could do no better.

Angelus groaned and pressed his body as tight as it could go. “So good. Wanna live inside this ass, boy. Oh, wanna put my whole body in there.”

“Think you bloody well have!”

“Shush. Mmm…” Angelus chuckled, watching William slowly relax, then a different sort of tension take over, his breath coming in close pants as he started to rock against him, meeting each thrust. “That’s a good lad. See? What did I tell you?”

William was writhing now, whimpering with need. “Faster. More.”

Of course, this had the opposite affect as desired, as Angelus had to stop stock-still to keep from climaxing. He wanted this to last longer than that. He gripped the boy hard.

“William?”

“Yeah?”

“Gonna fuck you hard now.”

“Yeah!”

Angelus adjusted his grip on William’s upper arms, fixing his angle, and then drove in as hard as he could. He heard the forced gasp of the air leaving the younger vampire’s lungs and he pounded again and again, his own vision tunneling, eyelids fluttering as he felt every ounce of blood in his body pool into his center.

William was stunned. It felt good – a whole different kind of good than sex normally felt, a thrumming, warming, deep good and he couldn’t get enough of it. His whole body was being beaten into it and he pushed with all his strength, pleasure building and banishing any other thought from his mind as he pressed for more, more more… and tipped over the brink to a blinding orgasm.

Angelus gave a strangled cry as William came and his muscles clamped down. He shuddered all over and spurt, three more thrusts and he was all done, quivering like a racehorse after the race, his skin adhered to William’s in a sheen of sweat.

***

“So, do you think it’s safe to go up there, yet?” Darla moved her bishop and glanced casually at the ceiling, as though the game meant nothing to her.

The Master frowned, finding himself caught between sacrificing his queen or ending up seriously in check. He didn’t know how Darla always managed to do this. He moved his head back and forth over the board, inspecting each piece and going over the moves so far.

“Though I suppose,” Darla said, fanning herself, “It wouldn’t matter if they weren’t finished. There’s nothing like the sight of two handsome men clutching each other.”

“Yes, I’m sure it’s marvelous.” The Master scowled. No, there was no way out of it. She’d have him in check in three moves! He sank back in his chair, moving his queen with such irritation that he knocked over a near-by pawn.

Darla pursed her lips. “Don’t be cross, Master. You’re still the head of the order.”

“You’re spoiling that boy. Both of them.” He watched her delicately remove his queen from the board.

“It’s a stronger family,” Darla said, her head tilted back, smiling as she watched her sire try desperately to find a way out of her gambit. “William brings energy to us, and a hand to hold Drusilla back in her worst moments. With her visions, his indefatigable youth, my wisdom and Angelus’ cunning, I think, dear master, they will be talking about us soon enough. All of Europe will know and fear us.”

The Master sighed, finally selecting the least horrid of possible moves.

Darla dropped her knight into place. “Check-mate.” She gathered up her skirts and stood.

“I would still have liked a taste of the boy,” The Master muttered. “You didn’t tell me he was so delectable.”

Darla smirked. “Yes. You would think I wouldn’t have to make Angelus jealous to get them together.” She paused, turned, and knocked The Master’s king over with her fan. “But men are slow to understand, I find.”

The Master sighed, leaning back in his chair as Darla’s bustle swayed behind her and out of the room. "That we are."

**Author's Note:**

> This is for **cafedemonde** who requested: Pre-canon William/Dru/Angelus/Darla just weeks after his turning, and they all have to visit the Master to present the newest in the line. nothing too bad can happen to William, but the Master wants his due. Angelus is determined to keep him from it.
> 
> Well, I'm not sure if this fits exactly what you were thinking of, but this is what came out of my warped brain. For some reason, pre-series fanged four always gets a little... sitcom-y with me. There is Spangelus and I apologize for the use of an elevator - they would have been novel at the time, but I liked the scene as written and decided to leave it in. All I know about the 1880s I get from Wikipedia and Anna Karenina. :P


End file.
